Propriety Is the Devil
by lunaschild
Summary: A series of one-shots where a certain Dalmascan Knight deals with propriety and a girl who's far more savvy than he.
1. Pay Attention

**Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy XII nor its characters.**

**A/N:** I know, I know...I should be working on my chapter stories. I have no excuse, but I just couldn't seem to leave this idea alone. So here it is. A simple one-shot that could feasibly take place anywhere during the game. Hopefully it will pass the time for those of you still waiting on the next chapters of my chapter stories. ;) Enjoy!

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**Pay Attention**

He watched. The blur of fire and dust rising into his vision, but that was not what caught his gaze. It was the creature stirring the embers with the soft kicks and stomps of her feet. He knew that he had seen many beautiful dancers in his time, but as the loose wisps of blonde hair clung to her rosy cheeks, he was certain none had danced with the grace she possessed.

Basch gave an uncomfortable cough and shifted his gaze to the ground at his feet. He shouldn't be watching her with such reckless abandon. He was twice her age. Even if her learned experiences and wisdoms put her well beyond the age of a seventeen year old, he would not be caught ogling her like a fool.

A sharp laugh sounded from his right and the steel-blue eyed man turned his head to see the knowing smirk of Balthier. Basch's eyes narrowed as the sky-pirate gave another short laugh, leaning in towards his fellow companion.

"I'd pay a bit more attention if I were you, captain," he cautioned.

Basch just answered with a grunt. It was useless trying to explain anything to the brown-eyed man who had been sitting watching the girl with rapt attention. It was hard for Basch to attempt explaining to himself why he was so against watching her dance. Perhaps it was the way she moved, how it hinted at knowledge she should not possess so young. But then again, he had learned that particular lesson when he was only fifteen so perhaps… His eyes widened as he realized he again was watching her and quickly opted to inspecting the buckles on his boots. After all, one could never be too careful with one's footwear.

Giggling and a snicker sounded from his left and Basch fought the urge to growl. Instead he gave a sigh and turned to look at Vaan and the princess with a look of exasperation. Vaan was the only one looking back as Ashe's attention was still fixed on Penelo.

"She's a wonderful dancer," she said softly and smiled.

Vaan gave a nod of his head in agreement and spoke in a low warning tone, "But she doesn't dance for just anyone so she hates it when you don't pay attention."

Vaan gave a laugh as a puzzled look crossed Basch's features. The boy turned his gaze back to his childhood companion and Basch was once again left wondering why if felt as though he was the brunt of some unknown farce. But the princess was correct, Penelo was a wonderful dancer. Though, the soldiered man could think of at least ten other adjectives better suited to her. Enchanting, captivating, fascinating… And it was then that he realized he was staring once again. He dropped his head in a rush, hoping that he wasn't caught this time.

"Oh that does it!" an exasperated growl sounded from someone, but Basch couldn't place the voice.

It was then that he found himself staring at a pair of rather small bare feet. The snickers, giggles, chuckles, and a sniff (Fran was far to dignified to actually laugh) sounded and Basch watched as one foot began to tap impatiently on the ground in front of him. His shoulders sagged and he was certainly feeling every day of his thirty-six years as he glanced upwards.

Penelo stood before him with her hands settled firmly on her hips and her mouth in a set pout. Yes, the loyal Dalmascan knight had indeed been caught ogling someone half his age and now he was never going to hear the end of it. He gave a sigh as he pushed himself up to stand and then dusted himself off. He was about to offer a heartfelt apology for his actions, but Penelo beat him to the punch.

"Is there a reason you aren't paying attention?" she growled, making a point to jab her finger into his chest after every spoken word.

Basch's train of thought came to a screeching halt. His mouth gaped open and he couldn't speak even if the gods themselves willed it to be. Any apology he would have offered her would never have worked, because he swore she just asked him why he wasn't paying attention to her. Perhaps age truly had started getting the better of him and his hearing was no longer what it used to be?

"Well?" the twin-plaited blonde asked in a huff.

Basch tried to answer. He closed his mouth and opened it again, but no sound came out. It seemed either age truly was robbing him of his senses or this petite wonder in front of him had actually managed to addle his mind. He cocked his head and looked at her curiously. This of course sent Vaan into a laughing fit.

Penelo shot Vaan an irritated glance then growled at the apparent lack of explanation from Basch as she grabbed the collar of his jacket and with a jerk, pulled him down to her level. The tall blonde willingly succumbed to her rough handling, slowly realizing that his nose was now mere inches from hers. It was cute how it turned up just slightly at the end. By the gods, did he just think her nose cute? He blinked as he watched her scowl turn into a look of concern.

"Basch, are you feeling okay?" she asked with the motherly concern Vaan despised.

Did he feel okay? He wasn't sure anymore. The sounds of Vaan's laughter, Ashe's giggling, Balthier's chuckles, and did Fran just snicker? None of them were helping his situation. In fact all they were accomplishing was reaffirming the fact that Basch was indeed making an ass of himself. It certainly wasn't helping that he couldn't stop looking into her pale blue eyes. They had tiny flecks of brown in them near the pupils and he really, really, really shouldn't be staring that intently at her.

A cool hand touched his forehead and then trailed down to his cheek. "You look really flushed. Come on, let's get you to bed. Maybe some rest will make you feel better."

His head gave a dumb nod and he found himself trailing behind her like a little lost wolf pup. Yes, he would never live this down. Between Balthier and Vaan (who were laughing the hardest now) he was quite certain he would be reminded of this for days, weeks even.

All for lack of paying attention, the fates were cruel indeed. Well, she certainly had his attention now. Especially when her smooth hand gently clasped his own as she pulled him onwards to the tent. His eyes glanced down at their clasped hands and gave a slight smile. The smile dropped from his face as he realized his gaze was now fixed on the movement of her hips as they swayed while she walked. He gave a forlorn sigh and looked back over his shoulder in hopes that someone would help him regain some manner of decorum. But they were too busy laughing, and was Fran laughing now too?

She pulled him into the tent and dropped his hand as she set about straightening his bedroll and fluffing his make-shift pillow. He wondered how it was he had never noticed the grace she possessed even going about the mundane. The way her muscles accented the curves of her body as she stretched to flatten out a rolled corner of his blanket. At least now he didn't have an audience to laugh as he stared.

"You know, there's nothing wrong with you watching me dance, right?" Penelo asked with a smirk as she turned back to him.

His mouth dropped open for a second time this night. He had a feeling that tomorrow was not going to be kind to him, or at least Vaan and Balthier would make it thus. She patted her hand on his bedroll and he found that obeying her came naturally.

He settled himself down and removed his boots, his armor, and finally his jacket. Basch felt exposed for some reason. He chanced to catch Penelo's eyes and found she was studying him intently. He also noticed a faint coloring to her cheeks, though it was rather hard to make out in the dimly lit tent.

It shocked him when her slender white thumb traced the path of the scar from his brow to his ear, but his eyes closed of their own accord. Then he felt her hands on his chest as they gently pushed him down onto his back and once again he couldn't think straight. Somewhere in his mind a small voice was reasoning that this was not something he should allow, but found he was getting rather good at ignoring that annoying little voice.

Basch could hear the sound of his heart racing in his ears. Yes, this sound was much more preferable. His eyes opened to find her face looking down at him in amusement. A perfect eyebrow cocked and her tempting pink lips set in a smirk. Perhaps Balthier added something to his drink? That would explain some of his behavior.

Her hand brushed along his chest and settled over his heart. He knew she could feel the way it pulsed, the quickness that betrayed his silent exterior. And now she was grinning.

"At least now I know you're just like every other guy," she said in jest as she tapped a finger lightly to his nose.

Basch flinched.

"I don't dance for just anyone," she chided. "So next time, you might want to pay attention."

He remembered Vaan stating as much. Wait, did that mean she was dancing for him?

"Sweet dreams, Basch," she whispered as she leaned in and placed a chaste kiss to his lips.

His mind barely registered her actions before she was up and gone. She just kissed him. His fingers touched his lips hesitantly. Was he dreaming? No, she definitely just kissed him. And in the knowledge that he was very much alone, Basch fon Ronsenberg allowed his face to break into the goofiest grin that any man of any age had ever possessed.

Yes, he could die a happy man now. First she had implied she was dancing for him and then she kissed him. Ah, to be kissed by such a young…very young…half his age young…

He suppressed a groan as he slapped his arm over his eyes and tried to banish all thoughts of her from his mind. Oh yes, he was definitely headed straight to the hells now.


	2. Just Can't Win

**Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy XII nor its characters.**

**A/N:** Yes, so originally this was to only be a one-shot...but I've been in such a silly mood lately, I've reconsidered. Now this will be a series of one-shots all based around Penelo's attempts to win the good captain over. Poor, poor Basch.

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**Just Can't Win**

Dust and leaves flew in a whirling dervish as he pivoted on his foot then with all his might, thrust the spear forward, spinning the shaft before pulling the tip up through the air. His breathing was ragged, but you could expect little else after demonstrating the move for the twentieth time in a row. Tiny beads of sweat were starting to form on his brow. Basch wiped them away with the back of his hand.

He eyed his sparring partner cautiously. There she stood, her crystal blue eyes fixed on him, but something just seemed off. Normally it didn't take her but twice on any demonstrated move before she could mimic it almost flawlessly. He was starting to think that perhaps the spear was just a weapon Penelo should reconsider taking up.

"Are you sure you can't slow it down just a little more?" she asked.

He furrowed his brow in thought. "Perhaps a different approach would be best."

A snicker sounded from behind her and Basch watched her angelic features darken. She spun around with a dancer's precision and whatever look she gave the young Dalmascan man, it had sent him running, _laughing and running_.

She turned back towards him, a pleasant smile now gracing her pink lips. Lips that just five days past had graced his own in a kiss that still lingered in the forefront of his mind. Soft lips that…Basch shouldn't be focusing on. Because he was training, just training…not watching_, nor staring_. Simply training.

"So I turn like this," she said as she demonstrated and Basch nodded, praying that this would be the final lesson. "Then spin like this?"

Basch inhaled then sighed dejectedly. She still was doing it wrong.

"Nay, you must push the shaft away from you then spin," he corrected, walking over towards her. This was not going to be good for him. "Like so."

Standing behind her, he placed his calloused hands over hers and went through the movements again. Her hands were dwarfed by his and he could feel they were not nearly as calloused as his own. How was it that women could be blessed with such gentle flesh and he was doing it again, wasn't he? Inwardly he groaned as he heard a slight giggle from his left. This was all starting to be a bit too familiar.

"Have you had any progress?" the princess directed to Penelo.

"Not yet, but I'm not giving up hope."

Another giggle escaped Ashe. "Well, good luck."

Basch felt Penelo nod her head and watch her highness walk off. He was getting a strong suspicion that he was missing something. The ends of her blonde braids brushed against the bare skin of his chest and Basch had the unnatural urge to draw her further into his arms. His eyes widened and he jumped back. This wasn't good. Thoughts of days previous where he had sat transfixed by her, danced before his eyes. No, this was not good at all.

"Are you alright?" Penelo asked, looking at him worriedly.

He coughed to hide his flustered state. "Fine, just fine," he choked out.

"You sure?"

"Aye, I am fine. 'Twas just dust." He managed in a nice even tone. "Perhaps I shall just demonstrate again."

He offered an apologetic smile as he backed away from her and swore he was just imagining the fact that she just rolled her eyes. He had to of imagined it. What reason could she have for being frustrated with him? It made no sense…none.

A snide chuckle and the clicking of heels alerted him that now Balthier and Fran were coming to add their insight into the whole training disaster. Yes, Basch was beginning to feel more certain that he was indeed missing something. Something that perhaps the little wisp of a dancer had concocted, but she could never be so deceptive. Could she?

"You realize, captain, that this isn't a game you shall ever win?" Balthier asked with a smirk.

Basch was thoroughly confused now. A game? What game? He peered over at Penelo who was having a whispered conversation with the Viera woman. She looked to him and gave him a brilliant smile. The one that left him feeling like he was young again. And here he was going down that same path of thoughts he should avoid. He immediately focused back on Balthier.

The sky-pirate just shook his head and tsked.

"Balthier," Fran called to him.

"Yes Fran."

"Your assistance is needed." Fran smirked.

Balthier let out a hearty laugh and Basch just couldn't figure for the life of him what was so funny. The sky-pirate sauntered over and took the spear from Penelo's hands. No words had passed between the three so how the hells did the man know what was needed from him?

Basch watched on with a mix of confusion and…_jealousy?_ Balthier drew the spear around Penelo, encasing her form with his own. The insufferable man grinned as he whispered something into her ear. She laughed in return and nodded her head. Since when did the two of them ever act so familiar towards each other?

He crossed his arms and watched as the two moved through the motions of the exercise, but this did not look like training. It looked more like…well that wasn't a train of thought he wished to entertain. And certainly not between those two, but he had been in Balthier's place not so long ago. The unbidden thought was slowly creeping into his mind and…NO, he had his duty. Princess, Dalmasca, restoring of royal throne, destroying evil, and they were really, _really_ too close to each other for Basch's liking.

Balthier had released her hands, _finally_. Now they were rested on Penelo's waist as she went through the motions Basch had taught her. Why was he still touching her? And what is that growling sound…was that coming from _him_? He watched indignantly as the pirate's hands began to slip down to her hips and _oh, that does it._

"I think she has mastered the exercise," Basch ground out, glaring at the cocky man.

Balthier laughed as he stepped back and put his hands up in deference. "By all means, captain, she is all yours. Fran?"

The brunette offered his arm to his smirking companion and the two made their exit. This left Basch feeling as though, once again, he was the brunt of some made up farce. Were the fates truly this cruel?

"Basch, I'm still not sure I've mastered it," Penelo said sweetly, smiling brightly.

Basch's jaw dropped. No, not cruel…_evil_.

"Will you show me again?" she asked in that same sweet tone.

The sunlight that filtered through the trees highlighted the gold in her hair and he could hear the little voice in his head reminding him of how he made an ass of himself the last time. That voice was rather annoying. But as she walked towards him, thoughts of reason and sanity were overruled. Did she have this same effect on Balthier…or Vaan for that matter?

She took his hand and placed it over her own. He sighed and positioned himself behind her then guided her through the motions of the training exercise. Giving in wasn't that bad.

The snickering and laughter seemed to echo from all four directions and Basch was certain he was being punished. He had effectively convinced himself that he only obeyed her request to show her again because he was _teaching_ her. He deflated when she asked him to move her through the motions yet again…_oh, who was he kidding_.


	3. A Little Closer

**Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy XII nor its characters.**

**A/N:** My thanks to those reading and those reviewing! I'm glad you are enjoying this little continuation. Here is the next bit...enjoy!!  


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**A Little Closer**

White. Everything was white. The ground, the sky, the air…all white. White like the color of the snow, well because that was all he could see. Snow on the ground, snow falling from the sky, and snow swirling in the air around him. Was there ever such a thing as too much white?

At first he had marveled at its beauty. It had been years since last his brow had been graced by the delicate white flakes that melted after first touch. But now he was sitting on watch and the small flakes were no longer melting. They were coming down in a stampede and settling themselves on his head, shoulders, arms, legs…perhaps he should move.

Ah, another problem in that. Moving would mean disturbing the petite girl that had managed to fall asleep against his side. He expelled a puff of air and it was white.

Had he really ever wished to never see the dark of Nalbina again? Well, he was beginning to strongly reconsider the notion. At least it had been warm (not that the girl nestled against his side wasn't warm) and there was no white.

Basch sighed. How had he managed to get watch with Penelo? The snow must have been affecting his memory as he couldn't recall. Ever since the hopeless lesson in spear handling, she had become his permanent watch companion. Not that he minded. She was rather angelic looking as she slept. He shook his head, causing the flakes to scatter. He was going to try his best to keep his thoughts well away from the devil on his arm.

Yes, she had to be the devil. For no woman had ever managed to confound him so. She'd smile, his heart would stop. She'd laugh; his heart would skip a beat. She'd be angry, and even if it wasn't his fault, his guilt would well near consume him until he saw her smile again. Starting the whole heart stopping process all over again…this couldn't be good for his health. Certainly not at his age.

Age, that terrible number that decreed he was far too old to be entertaining thoughts of the two of them together. Which he could have swore he told himself that he wouldn't be thinking along these lines…_damn_.

A shiver shook Basch's body, but it had not originated from him. He stared down at the blonde (with white snowflakes perched on her head) and noticed the blanket had started to slip from her shoulders. Her lips had begun to tremble and the urge to draw her to him became overwhelming. Even that frustrating little voice was silent…perhaps it didn't like the cold.

His ears strained as he listened to the surrounding area. No snickers, no laughing, no sound at all except for the rush of frozen water droplets that threatened to bury them alive. Surely it couldn't hurt for him to pull her just a little closer. To right her blanket, that's all.

Basch searched the terrain with his eyes, yes indeed that was useless. But it made him feel better knowing he could see nothing, or no one, in the nearby vicinity. (Except for the white, of course.) He slowly pulled his arm up then around her shoulder, pulling the blanket back up about her. Her head bobbed before resting against the side of his chest and his hand settled on her shoulder. Penelo's shivering abated and Basch was giving himself a good pat on the back. At least she remained asleep.

A wakeful Penelo would mean he would have to be on his guard doubly so. Gods only knew what she was capable of and too often was he finding himself tongue-tied and out-of-sorts in her presence. It was amazing he was even capable of performing watch when she was awake. He preferred her asleep.

Penelo gave a tiny sniffle and Basch looked down at her. Snowflakes were tormenting her nose. At this rate she would be awake and he would have explaining to do. Panic…what did he do, what could he do…panic. His heart sped up as she gave another sniffle and turned her face into him. She settled and fell back into her peaceful slumber.

Basch exhaled the breath he had been holding; then nearly choked on the next one as her lithe form snuggled closer to him. The lower half of his arm was left suspended in mid-air (gathering little white snowflakes) because settling it down over her form was certainly not going to be proper. This truly couldn't be good for his health. His heart was already threatening to beat its cadence clear out of his chest and he couldn't keep his arm like this forever.

The inward torment of what to do was causing the man to have all sorts of revelations. He had always been firmly set in his belief that the fates provided, but he was now more than willing to say screw the fates, screw the Gods, because no damned deity or force of nature could be this cruel. They couldn't possibly exist.

Denial was a wonderful bliss. Pity it didn't work with the snow or the fact that a lovely, _lovely evil_, young woman was using him for her own personal pillow. He wasn't so sure he was immune to her even when she was asleep anymore. He couldn't even remember what he was supposed to be doing or why he was out in the blasted white world of hell.

He felt two sneaky arms wrap their way around him and he knew he lost. Balthier had once told him this was a game, right? Wait, no, he still had his arm that was beginning to strain from keeping it aloft. Not to mention the pile of snow accumulating on it was starting to add more weight. He looked to the sky and cursed the snow, shaking the offensive pile to the ground.

With a gentle moan, she destroyed his last reign of defense. Her head was now nuzzled against his chest and if she got any closer, she would be sitting in his lap. Not that he would have minded…wait, yes he would. That's not decent.

His arm flexed and curved around her, though he would swear he could no longer feel it because of the cold. But none of that seemed to matter much as he peered down at the woman who was trying her best to drive him insane. He smiled. Sanity was vastly overrated.

The crunch of snow alerted him that the fates still hated him even if he refused to believe they existed anymore. He felt the chill of air being brushed against his back and then a rush of warmth. His head turned to find one cocky sky-pirate wearing his trademark smirk. Basch still hadn't forgiven the man for being so familiar with his girl. No, no-no-no-no-no-no, oh no…Vaan's girl…_Vaaaaaan's_ girl.

"You looked like you could use a little more warmth, but perhaps not," the sly man said quietly, eyeing Penelo openly.

Basch glared back at him. "Go away," he growled.

The heartless bastard raised an eyebrow and then shook his head with a silent laugh. "Were it me, captain, I would have already given in."

Basch just growled in return. He could feel his hackles rising and somewhere in his mind the little voice was ranting about MINE! CAN'T HAVE! MINE! Wait, what was he going on about? The blonde man shook his head for some sense, sending more white snow into the rush of falling white snow…oh it all looked the blasted same, who cared!

Balthier had stalked away unbeknownst to him and left him alone once again in the winterish wonder-hell with a rather beautiful devil. Perhaps the snow wasn't such a bad thing. It did make her porcelain features look even more delicate. And she did look extremely comfortable. The urge to place a kiss to her temple took over and he didn't regain sense until the act was complete.

Penelo gave a happy sigh and purred his name. Basch felt his heart flutter, stop, flutter, and then sing. She looked so peaceful as she slept. An angelic being sent straight from the fates to remind him that heaven does exist on Ivalice. The snow was rather beautiful as it danced about in the blowing wind. Basch grinned foolishly.

And he sat for the next couple of hours as snow continued to pile on and over him, not having a care in the world. Reality jarred him when Vaan and Ashe emerged for their watch. He had never seen anyone with the ability to be silent and laugh their head off at the same time. He can say he had now. His face efficiently flushed, he started to wake Penelo.

"Perhaps you should just carry her inside," Ashe suggested with a very un-princess like smirk.

Yet another thing he was never going to live down. They were all conspiring against him. He knew it now. This was proof! He muttered about propriety as he carefully picked Penelo up and then entered the tent away from the garish white and evil minions of the devil in his arms.


	4. Catch Me

**Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy XII nor its characters.**

**A/N:** Well I was going to hold off on publishing this installment, but in honor of St. Valentine's Day...why not? So here is yet another installment for the series. Enjoy!

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**Catch Me**

Basch inhaled then exhaled and repeated the action again and again. Sweet Faram this just wasn't fair.

His eyes were trying their best to stay rooted within their sockets, but since when did she ever possess such an outfit that revealed that much skin. The girl wore a blasted leather jumpsuit in the desert, but get her around water and by the Gods…this was cheating. It had to be.

Staring at the sun had proved to be ineffective as he could no longer remove the mental image of her bouncing around in the salty waves along the coast. It had left his eyes with little spots that were starting to give him a headache. Though the pain in his head could have just as easily been caused by the aneurysm he was certain he was going to have.

Basch settled himself under a tree that grew towards the edge of the shore line. It offered shade and a place to hide. There was nothing dignified in the act of hiding, but he no longer cared for dignity. If she found him, she would find a way to drag him into her world. The world where the likes of him were not allowed. There was a rule against it, somewhere…well at least he thought there was. And if there wasn't, he wished someone would inform him because this was torture.

"There you are!" an excited voice exclaimed and he froze.

There she stood; the devil that plagued his every thought. Her platinum blonde braids swaying in the breeze. Her crystalline blue eyes brimming with hope and happiness. Her lithe form covered by tiny scraps of material to hide only the bits that would be considered indecent if shown in public. Basch swallowed, hard.

"You should come in the water with me," Penelo said, grinning in a way that was causing his innards to turn to mush.

Basch couldn't speak. Hells, he could barely think. His hands sought purchase in the sand beneath him. It was cool to the touch and the grit was helping him focus. Then she moved closer.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" She laughed and offered her hand.

Basch stared at the hand dumbly. Was this a trick? Every time he did as she wished, he ended up damned. At this rate he was set to burn in the Hells for at least five lifetimes, perhaps more. Only the Gods knew for certain and he was finally convinced they were having a jolly good laugh at him.

"I guess I could always ask Balthier," she said in a defeated tone.

"Over my dead body," Basch muttered under his breath as he jumped to his feet.

Penelo looked at him curiously. "What did you say?"

Basch's eyes widened. "Nothing, nothing," he said shaking his head.

He stopped breathing as she peered at him dubiously. Then a smile broke on her face that seemed brighter than the sun and all was well in the world. He started breathing again. Perhaps the lack of oxygen he was getting when around her was the cause of his behavior? He did tend to hold his breath…a lot.

Basch felt himself being pulled along by the crafty temptress and busied himself with staring at anything other than her backside. Not that it wasn't pleasant to look at, with the well toned muscles of her arms and the bright blue strings that tied across her shoulder blades, the slight curve of her waist and thank the Gods the girl didn't opt for a suiting like Fran. He would have died instantly once his eyes reached the strings on her hips, but there was a decent amount of fabric hiding _something that he wasn't supposed to be staring at!_

The snickering started (Vaan) and Basch turned to stare the young man down. The boy's eyes widened in shock and he took a step back. He recovered, giving a smirk before turning tail. The little voice inside Basch's head was giving a heroic cheer and the soldiered man sighed. Even his subconscious was set against him now.

The next contestant came into his peripheral vision and Basch closed the narrow gap Penelo left as she pulled him along. He heard her giggle, but he would be buggered before he'd let the insufferable pirate think for one second that he was allowed any where near what was his. And yes, he would blame this thought on the heat mixed with the humidity because…well just because.

Balthier grinned like a cheshire cat and Fran stood next to him with a fixed smirk on her face. Neither moved closer as Penelo lead him into the water. He removed his leather vest and tossed it back onto the beach making sure to glare at Balthier for good measure. One could never be too certain with sky-pirates and their hidden agendas. The brunette gave a laugh as he looked to the sky.

Basch was now back focusing on the water, because he shouldn't be focusing on Penelo. Certainly not the way the water droplets glistened on her skin. How did a child from the desert ever stay this white?

She stopped pulling once they were about knee deep, well at least knee deep for him. For her the water stopped just above her knees and the waves lapped against her perfect thighs. Basch winced. She was going to kill him, unintentionally, but he would be dead all the same. His only hope was that the princess could manage the restoration of her throne without him, because death by nubile young woman was going to be his epitaph.

It was then that she spun around, causing water droplets to spray everywhere. It reminded him of how the dust flew when she danced. His head tilted to the side as he smiled down at her, no longer consciously aware that he was behaving like an idiot. She smiled back.

Her arms wrapped around him in a tight hug and Basch stopped breathing once again. "Thanks for coming with me."

"Yes," he squeaked. This was far too much flesh for him to comprehend. Wait, _squeaked_! He hadn't even realized he possessed such an octave.

She giggled then withdrew, allowing him to regain breath. Then, just for good measure, she went and destroyed him. Using him as ballast, she stretched her agile form and placed the gentlest of kisses to the scruff of his jaw. There was a wicked glint in her eye, but he passed it off as the light of the sun that radiated from her. He touched the spot with the tips of his fingers, grinning like a fool.

"If you want more, you'll have to catch me." And with that she ran from him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought he had heard another voice, the annoying voice of reason asking him to go over strategy in approaching Archades, but his inner voice was screaming at him to _GET MOVING AND_ _CATCH HER_! So he opted for something that broke from propriety, dignity, Hells even decorum and he ran after her.

He made it about five full sprinting steps before he stopped dead in his tracks. The annoying voice of reason sounded an awful lot like the voice of the princess. He turned slowly and his head sunk into his shoulders. Seems that it was the princess and he had managed to make an ass of himself once again.

Basch trudged slowly back to the shore, listening to the sounds of laughter echo in the air around him, each step making him more agitated. He reached his liege's side and glared down at her (absolutely unintentional of course.) This, however, did little to intimidate her.

"Captain Ronsenberg, are you pouting?" Ashe questioned in amusement.

He grunted and crossed his arms. No he was not, he most _definitely_ was not.


	5. Big Baby

**Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy XII nor its characters.**

**A/N:** Another installment that I hope you shall all enjoy. My sincerest thanks to all of those who take the time to read and to those of you that review!

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**Big Baby**

His eyes closed and he felt the cool breeze of the wind send a salty mist to tickle his nose. He sneezed. His eyes opened again and there she was, holding out a handkerchief. Basch accepted the token with a smile.

"I'm sorry I made you come with me," Penelo said with an apologetic expression.

Basch chuckled. "Do not worry; I am certain 'tis nothing."

He sneezed again, this time into the kerchief. She studied him with the mothering concern that made his soul lighter. Vaan was an idiot. He smiled again, hoping to put her at ease. For some unknown reason, lately he hated when she didn't smile.

"Well at least you're not a big baby like Vaan," she said with a grin.

Basch laughed. It was easier to be around her these days. His heart still fluttered and stopped at her smiles and laughter, but he was used to the feeling now. Taking everything in stride as any good soldier should, that was his current motto.

Her arms wrapped around his bicep and he stifled a groan. The constant touching was new. If she wasn't hugging him, then she had her delicate fingers entwined with his own. This, of course, led to more improper thoughts and notions that a man of his age should never possess towards a woman of her age.

If he ever did find the imbecile who created that rule, he was going to ensure them a slow painful death. It would only be fitting after the long months of torture he had to endure. He felt a gentle squeeze on his arm and he gazed down to see Penelo smiling back up at him. Torture, albeit sweet, he was still enduring.

"We could always head back if you want," she said as her eye's widened at a stall before them.

Basch shook his head. "Nay, 'tis fine. Enjoy yourself."

Another sneeze threatened to emerge in her presence and Basch attempted to keep it at bay. He was unsuccessful. She smirked at him and shook her head.

"Come on, you're going to bed." Penelo released his arm and clasped his hand.

Oh no, bed was the last place he wanted to be. Bed meant more dreams plagued with images and visions of a scantily clad blonde demanding he catch her as she ran through the surf. His inner voice was no help either as it was all in favor of bed rest…_traitor_. He pulled on her hand firmly, causing her to stumble back.

"Nay, I am well." At least he sounded convincing to himself.

Penelo eyed him suspiciously. The look sent towards him seemed misplaced on her face, but he had seen her eye Vaan this way many times. It was usually followed by Vaan rolling his eyes, Penelo jabbing a finger in the young man's chest offering idle threats, and the thief's complete obedience. Well, Basch was no young man and she didn't frighten him in the least.

"No, I'm done looking around. Let's head back so you can get some rest," she said with a definitive tone.

Basch arched an eyebrow in protest. "I am well, Penelo. I am certain 'tis something in the air that causes my malady."

"All the more reason to get you back to the inn, so let's go."

The petite wonder pulled on his hand to find he wasn't going to budge. Basch was no fool. She would use this opportunity to her advantage. Just as she had with the dancing, the spear lessons, and he was starting to have strong suspicions that she wasn't even asleep during their watch on the rift. She had even managed to use clothing, or the lack thereof, to taunt him on the coast. He had no idea of how she would use his ailment to her advantage, but she excelled in this area of expertise.

Penelo dropped his hand and gave him a menacing look. Basch sneezed, though he did try very hard not to. She took a step closer to him and suddenly he didn't feel quite as secure in his opinion of not being afraid.

"Listen here mister 'I'm just fine.' You've sneezed at least a dozen times in the last hour. If you don't already have a cold, you're catching one and you are going to get some rest because you won't be any good to Ashe when you're sick." She managed to use her most reasonable, yet threatening, tone and the princess line was good…_real good_.

Yes, Basch was shaking in his boots now. He was far to dignified to roll his eyes but the grin threatening to break on his face was harder to suppress. At least the kerchief came in handy for more than one use. She was absolutely irresistible when she was irate, and perhaps he was coming down with a cold if he was thinking such things.

He tried to keep a straight face. "I am able to perform my duty with or without a cold, but you need not fear for I do not have a cold."

Then she dropped her hands to her hips and Basch knew she meant business. The grin dropped from his face immediately as she took his measure with pursed lips and a set scowl. A hand came up from her side and now he was certain he was in big trouble.

"You are going to rest whether you want to or not," she said in a growling whisper as her sharply nailed finger jabbed into his tender flesh. Why did all women have fangs and claws!

Now a moment of clarity came to him in the fact that perhaps he did have a cold and he should just listen to her, but thoughts of bed and her nursing him were far too tempting. This was not going to be good for his soul (that at this point was damned for eternity, but he had always been a stout fighter to the very end.)

She glared at him, giving him only a second more to rethink his decision. "That does it." Apparently it was the wrong choice.

He watched as her arm moved faster than a thief towards Gil and he let out a very indignant yelp.

He hissed, "Penelo, what…" and was cut off with another yelp.

"Let's go," she said, pulling him down the street.

It was a sight to behold. A small twin-plaited girl was dragging a bulking warrior down the street by his ear. The snickers and laughs came from every direction and each time Basch attempted to grab her wrist, she pulled harder. At this rate he was destined to lose the ear.

She dragged him back to the inn where his injury was to become yet another thing he would never live down. Their remaining party members were seated at a table in the lounge that just happened to be right near the entrance. _The Fates were cruel._

Penelo walked through first then dragged the now whimpering Dalmascan knight behind her. Balthier took one look at the pair and his beverage became mist as he sputtered it all over the table. Fran patted his back soothingly, smirking. Ashe attempted to keep a straight face, but failed. Only Vaan seemed to understand his plight as he looked on in shock.

"At least I know how to listen," the young thief said incredulously.

It was the last thing Basch heard before the echoes of laughter rung in his good ear. Perhaps Vaan wasn't such an idiot after all.

They climbed the stair, which turned out to be easier than he imagined. If he lagged behind, it hurt more. Pain was one of the best motivators in the world. Then they arrived at his room and the pain stopped.

He dared not right himself for fear she'd grab it again, so he stayed hunched over waiting. Basch peered cautiously at her, his ear still pulsing in pain. Penelo gave him a tender smile and wrapped her arms around his neck. Now he was starting to question her sanity. Evil one minute, angel the next…far too confusing for a man in pain.

Basch felt the feathery light touch of the same soft lips that haunted his dreams as they fluttered across his ear. Strange, he wasn't in pain anymore.

"Now get in bed," she said before releasing him.

Basch obeyed. His slate-blue eyes focused on her the entire time he divested himself of his armor and vest. The gentle smile never left her lips and he felt…relieved? He was happy she was no longer angry with him.

He laid down on the bed and pulled the covers over him. Penelo then joined him at his bedside, tucking the covers under his chin. She placed a cool hand to his forehead and tsked. He gave her a hesitant look. He no longer knew what to expect from her.

Penelo's hand moved to his temple and her thumb began to trace the scar along his eyebrow. Her ministrations were soothing and Basch began to feel the pull of sleep. His eyes shot open, oh no, he was not falling for this.

"Stop being such a big baby and go to sleep." Her laughter was musical and she placed the lightest of kisses to his lips. "You know, you're cute when you pout."

Basch would swear to the very heavens themselves that his lips never went into a pout, but he would also deny any attachment to the little vixen whose eyes danced with merriment. She was enjoying this torment. She _had_ kissed him again and called him cute. Perhaps she wasn't too evil. And he closed his eyes, with a satisfied smile on his lips, falling into a slumber where he dreamed of an exuberant young woman with a temper to match.

Meanwhile the party downstairs began a betting pool…


	6. A Happy Ending

**Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy XII nor its characters.**

**A/N:** So I've been getting some slight grief over tormenting poor Basch. ;p He's a big boy. He can handle it. Hopefully this was the ending you had in mind, Mina. ;D I'm contemplating one more one-shot in this series before it's end. Thanks to all who take the time to read this and thank you for all the wonderful reviews! Enjoy!!

* * *

**A Happy Ending**

Basch stood perfectly still. It was an impressive feat for a man in a full suit of armor. He neither swayed nor creaked, though he was breathing, even if he had to continually remind himself to do such.

He stared at the girl, no, woman in front of him. Her eyes were brimming with unshed tears and a few had escaped down her cheeks. He desperately wanted to wipe them away. He doubted she would welcome the cold leather of his gauntlets on her face however, so he kept his hands down. The only comfort he managed to offer was a watery smile for he felt on the verge of tears himself.

Basch had tried valiantly to avoid these emotions, but in the end he was not a match for Penelo. The platinum-haired beauty had wound herself tightly around his heart that he was certain would burst any second now. Her caring nature put his tortured soul at ease and the independent streak was a source he knew he could rely on to fell the mightiest foes, even himself at times. But no amount of fighting would change the path they now both found themselves.

The far off voices of the crowd around them seemed to float in and out of his range of hearing. They were all gathered at the palace within the desert city of Rabanastre for this momentous occasion. He would catch bits and pieces of whispered conversations as an officiant droned on about good will, honor, and the blessings of a war now over. Basch understood the need for ceremonies, but did they have to drag this one out? He was certain the speech had to have some good parts but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the watery blue eyes that looked into his own with such hope.

_Why him?_ He had racked his brain numerous times on their long journey together over this question. He hadn't encouraged her. Quite the opposite actually, but the more he pushed, the harder she pulled. He wasn't young and he was hardly what one would consider dashing (with the giant scar that streaked across his face.) He didn't even have his hair anymore, not that she really seemed to care about his hair. The only qualities he seemed to have in abundance had been the ability to lead men to war and the constant failing of protecting his homeland. She forgave him anyway and even loved him. He took a deep breath. It was getting harder to hold the tears at bay.

Penelo did love him. He knew this for fact for she had told him, more than once. His brows creased with concern towards her frazzled state. Her tears were flowing freely from the crystalline eyes that held the heavens in their depths. Basch watched her arms move and looked down to see her small white hands place themselves within his covered black leather ones. He silently cursed at the vow he gave that forced him to wear the mantle. Carefully he held her hands, giving her what little comfort he could offer from the action. She deserved that much, _more actually_, but it was all he able to do for now.

Basch's heart wrenched at her sniffles and the beginnings of tears started their trek down his face. He loved her too and he was finally willing to admit it. Yes she was young, but who was he to deny her. She had committed herself to him long before he was willing, and the fates only knew how she had successfully ruined him for any other woman. No one could ever compare to Penelo.

The man in charge of the ceremonious speech continued to lull people into a state of drowsiness. Basch was aware of this because the gentle whispers were starting to be replaced with gentle snores. His eyes strained to focus through his tears at the woman who refused to release him, hands, heart, and soul. She gave a slight nod as though she was reading his mind. He smiled down at her, his heart swelling. He inwardly chided himself for not complimenting her gown. She looked lovely in the silvery-grey material and perhaps once this dullard stopped his oratory drain, he would have his chance to tell her so.

A polite cough sounded and Basch's smile slipped from his face. He blinked to rid his eyes of the salt water and saw Penelo crying and silently _laughing_ at him. His eyes widened and his head whipped around to the officiant. He had just been caught not paying attention..._again_. The balding man had a smirk that could rival Balthier's on his pudgy face. The snickers and giggles invaded his ears. Apparently the Gods did not grant amnesty on even the most solemn of occasions.

"Son, just nod your head or say 'I shall,'" the white robed monk urged in a soft whisper.

Basch turned back to Penelo. "I shall?" It was a small uncertain voice that posed the statement into a question as though seeking the correct answer.

Penelo beamed at him through her tears and he gave a firm nod of his head. "I shall," he stated louder, in a firm decision.

The aged man prattled on for a bit more, but Basch no longer had to pay attention. He was wholly focused on what was his. She was his now. Well, almost. The official command came and Basch wasted no time as his lips gently descended to hers. He'd been listening for that one command, allowing him to claim her as his own. His mouth turned up in a smirk against her soft lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, trapping him. She was good at traps.

* * *

The remaining members of their party, plus Larsa, sat in the very front of the applauding congregation. Vaan was grinning from ear to ear. He had won the bet they had made (without Larsa) back when they watched the man being dragged up to his room by his ear a year and a half ago. Balthier figured Basch's sense of honor would send the girl to despair. Ashe had thought they would remain good friends, but would never get involved in anything far more serious. Fran initially refused to bet. Vaan had tried to tell them that once Penelo put her mind to something, nothing would stop her. Fran then conceded and bet they would be married before the years end. Vaan gave Basch a bit more of a fighting chance and said a year and a half.

And a year and a half it was. This was only because having Gabranth come back married after being in Rabanastre for a week was just a bit too far-fetched, even for the most romantic at heart. Instead, Penelo made herself the Dalmascan Ambassador to Archadia (with Ashe's full approval, of course) and happily wormed herself into the life of the Judge Magister.

Basch was given even less of a fighting chance when Vaan had mentioned, rather off-handedly or perhaps under-handedly, to Larsa about the whole affair. The raven-haired emperor was more than happy to help his friends. He demanded that Penelo should live within the Imperial palace and then ordered the Judge Magister Gabranth to be her personal guard, thus the two were always together.

All in all, it was a sweet courtship where Basch would try to evade her advances and Penelo would sneak kisses, leaving the man helpless in her wake. None could remember the exact day the he had finally dropped his seeming propriety and just gave in, but the proposal came after five months of guarding her. The two wanted a desert wedding, so they had to wait until Ashe's coronation for a good reason to be in Rabanastre. It wasn't so bad, and the seven months had given them plenty of time to get the wedding plans in order.

Larsa gave an evil smirk and then turned to the rest. The bets were now on as to when the first child would be born. Vaan bet a year, Balthier two. Ashe gave serious thought to the issue and bet nine months. Larsa gave another two months to Ashe's estimate. Fran cocked an eyebrow at the others and then examined the still kissing newlyweds.

"Six months," she said stoically.


	7. Like Mother, Like Daughter

**Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy XII nor its characters.**

**A/N:** Well I hope I'm not distressing anyone, but the last chapter wasn't the absolute last. This one, however, is. I thank you all for the wonderful comments you have left and hope you enjoy this very last installment of the series. Enjoy!  


* * *

**Like Mother, Like Daughter**

Gabranth (as he had not been called Basch in ages) had noticed a few things over the past eight years. It was little things, things that apparently others weren't noticing or at least choosing to turn a blind eye. One individual in particular was completely unaware of the chaos unfolding around him. Poor fool. Gabranth knew from experience, this wasn't a battle that the man would emerge the victor.

It had started about three years ago, when their (his wife Penelo and himself) eldest daughter turned five. She was the spitting image of her mother, appearance and disposition. Thankfully their two sons, Basch and Noah (as he managed to lose another battle when Penelo insisted the names were not cursed, despite his heart-felt protest, and that they should stay in the family) were level-headed individuals. Well at least as sensible as a five year old and two year old could be.

Maedra, or Mae for short, was a different story altogether. She turned five and suddenly she had to have a direct plan. She wanted to get married, she wanted to have children, and she wanted to be an Empress. He definitely had his suspicions. Penelo thought this was all well and cute; Gabranth on the other hand was strongly considering counseling for his little cherub. But, alas, she was Penelo's daughter indeed for it took minimal coaxing to ease her father's mind that she was only playing. A few kisses and hugs and she had him wrapped fully around her finger.

The trouble was he wasn't the only one she had wrapped around her little finger. The tiny blonde had effectively made herself the most important person in the eyes of one Larsa Ferrinas Solidor. The man was doomed.

Gabranth had tried to warn him when the man was eighteen, but Larsa just laughed at him. Now the he was twenty-one and the Judge Magister was certain his beloved daughter was up to something. _So much like her mother._ But he was a devoted husband and father, so he did both their bidding with a resigned sigh and asked the Emperor if he would be willing to join them for dinner. Of course Larsa said yes.

Seated around the table with his family still made his heart swell. Penelo untied the apron around her skirts and bustled about filling drinks for the children as Gabranth made their plates. Mae had decided that Larsa would help her and the Judge Magister looked to his beaming wife skeptically. She succeeded in distracting him with the smile that still made his heart flutter. He was a lucky man. Larsa, unknowingly, was playing right into the petite eight-year-old hands. The little girl gave him a brilliant smile, one that could almost rival her mother's, and the raven-haired man gave her a wink.

Gabranth held his wife's chair out for her as she sat down. He sat beside her. Penelo leaned over and gave his cheek a kiss and he clasped her hand within his own. Gods he loved her.

"So, Gabranth, your daughter informs me that yet another addition to your ever growing family is to be expected?" Larsa said with a grin.

Gabranth chuckled and nodded. "Aye, my Lord."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I think we've got it from here Larsa," Penelo replied with a grin.

"Indeed!" Larsa said with a laugh.

A polite little cough sounded and Mae spoke in a curious voice. "Mother, how old were you when you married father?"

Gabranth felt an eerie chill run down his spine as Penelo smiled at their daughter. "I was eighteen."

"How old was father?"

"He was older than me."

"Much older," Larsa coughed into his hand and the elder man glared at the grinning emperor.

"But how much older, mother?" Mae insisted with pleading eyes. Gabranth could feel the dread pooling in his stomach. _Not his baby girl too…_

Penelo gave the matter some thought and then patted her husband's hand. "Your father was thirty-seven."

"Lord Larsa, how old are you?" she asked sweetly.

Larsa smiled down at the girl. "I am twenty-one."

Mae took on a look of intense concentration. Her mother's blue eyes peered under thick lashes as the little girl resolved to figure out the unseen problem before her. It was a full minute of silence (except for Basch and Noah's eating) and suspense before a huge grin pealed upon her porcelain features and she turned to Larsa.

"That means you will only be thirty-one when I marry you, Lord Larsa," she said in a triumphant tone.

The younger boys were the only two who seemed immune to his angelic little girl's revelation. Gabranth's fork dropped to his plate as his hand went lax. Penelo's eyes were wide with shock, but the corners of her lips were twitching. _She would have known this was coming. _Larsa was not fairing as well. The man had started to choke. Mae began patting his back until the fit was over.

"Are you alright, Lord Larsa?" she asked with distressing concern.

His gaze shot to Gabranth. He looked an awful lot like a caught thief staring down the edge of a sword. The blonde man shook his head ruefully. _He did try to warn the boy…_

The rest of the evening passed without too much chaos. The boys, spirited as always, insisted on stories from their travelling days after dinner and Mae conveniently sat herself in Larsa's lap for the tale. Gabranth was torn between humor and humiliation as the young emperor looked on the verge of crawling out of his skin. He gave the young man credit, however. It wasn't everyday you were proposed to by an eight year old with aspirations.

Bedtimes began to near and Gabranth and Penelo bid their young Emperor goodnight. Larsa was coerced into settling Mae into bed and the man practically ran from their door after the farewells. Gabranth drew his wife into his arms and nuzzled his face against her neck.

"I hope this one is another boy," he grumbled playfully.

"Oh?" she teased as a hand caressed the side of his face.

"You knew what she was up to, didn't you?" he accused as he placed the gentlest of kisses to her flesh.

Penelo giggled. "It'll give him time to get used to the idea."

"You do not think she will change her mind?"

She turned in his arms and looked deeply into his eyes. "I never did."

Gabranth startled back just slightly, his eyes widening. A fleeting memory of a little girl in twin plaits handing him a flower as he passed through the streets of Rabanastre on parade nearly twenty some years ago filled his vision. _No, there was no way, no…_ Penelo grinned as she pulled his face down to hers before placing her lips to his own. He yielded to the soft pink mouth that graced the woman that held his heart. This was bliss and somewhere within himself, he could _almost_ pity the young emperor. If his daughter was anything like his wife, Larsa didn't stand a chance in Hells and Gabranth knew from direct personal experience that he should just give in for propriety was indeed the devil.

~the end~


	8. Good Measure

**Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy XII nor its characters.**

**A/N:** Yes, I had to. I just absolutely adored a review left for me by Monochrome-muse...I simply couldn't resist. Consider it a way of apologizing due to my extreme lack of writing on my part. Yes, it probably could be sappier, but it is not. I hope everyone enjoys it none-the-less. Me, I shall simply do my best as ever I can. ;D Thanks again to everyone who left such wonderful reviews on this story. And my thanks to everyone who takes the time to read this and hopefully walk away with a little smile, hopefully. Enjoy!

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**Good Measure**

Larsa's eyes darted from side to side. He was hoping that today he would either just get caught or perhaps left alone. He still couldn't decide for the life of him which was the more preferable choice.

Another corridor successfully navigated and his weariness was becoming more evident. He had traversed the entire length of his palace today in efforts to avoid the inevitable. Perhaps it was time to take a short break. He placed his hands on the wall shoulder width apart and let his forehead touch the cool stone as his eyes closed in an attempt to relax.

"Good-day Lord Larsa."

The raven-haired man's eyes shot open and he held his breath. He had purposely taken the longest route to avoid any chance meeting and then doubled back, twice, to ensure he was not followed. How the hells did the girl just 'pop up' out of nowhere?

He slowly drew away from the wall, hesitantly lowering his hands in the process. Any hopes of this being a simple figment of his imagination were shattered as he turned around. There she stood with that brilliant smile and wide hopeful eyes.

"Um, good-day Maedra," Larsa replied slowly as his eyes searched for the girl's parents. "Do your parents know where you are?"

The tiny peal of bell-like laughter made his heart jump.

"Lord Larsa, I'm hardly a little girl anymore," she said with a smirk.

Larsa tried his hardest to refrain from looking her up and down, but he was already damned. She was right. Maedra Gabranth was the farthest hint away from little girl nowadays. Her cherub features had transformed into rosy high cheekbones and a little pink mouth that always seemed to hold a smirk at bay. Her golden hair now flowed well beyond her shoulders. Her once childlike figure had been replaced with curves in places he should have known better than to stare, but he was weak.

It reminded him of the days when Gabranth had warned him of this day to come. Larsa sighed, heavily.

"Oh stop being so dramatic," she chided and held out her hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" he asked suspiciously, but took her hand all the same.

Larsa looked down at their entwined fingers and felt that same icy-heat prickle his senses. It wasn't as uncomfortable as when she first started with the handholding. In fact, now, it was…enjoyable. He knew he had lost against her years ago, but he had no intention of letting her know that.

At first, her forwardness terrified him, but in truth, it was more Gabranth's reaction versus the admiration of a little girl. No sane man would dare to not fear the Judge Magister when it concerned his children. Larsa had even attempted to resolve himself against the girl. His downfall came as she grew to adulthood and her determination became absolute.

Maedra had never behaved as a little girl should. There were no tantrums, no imaginary tea parties, no dolls, and in their place an absolute single-mindedness when it came to her aspirations of being Empress. Larsa had stopped counting the numerous times the girl informed him how cross she would be if he married before she turned eighteen. Oddly enough, the ploy had worked, for Larsa was still very much single (much to the dismay of the senate.)

As they turned to walk down a familiar corridor, Larsa finally realized that the girl had started humming pleasantly instead of answering his question. He stopped dead and pulled on her hand.

"Maedra," he said firmly, "Where are we going?"

She smiled and Larsa felt the corners of his mouth twitch to match hers. "We're going to see my parents."

The Emperor's mouth fell open and he shook himself back to sense. "Why?"

The blue-grey eyed woman raised an eyebrow. "Surely you haven't forgotten that I turn eighteen in a week."

Larsa stared at her dumbly. She was always too clever for her own good, but most of the time he was able to keep up with her train of thought. Yet for some reason, the way her soft silk gown brought out the color in her eyes seemed to have interfered with his reasoning skills.

"You're going to ask father for my hand in marriage, my Lord," she said calmly.

Larsa sputtered.

He felt her other hand grace his cheek and his shoulders slumped as he looked helplessly at her. She gave him that smile that seemed reserved for him and him alone. It made his heart feel light and somehow less fearful of the man who kept a constant vigil over him.

"You do want to marry me, don't you Lord Larsa?" she asked as her hand drew shakily away from his face.

He felt his heart painfully constrict as he watched the uncertainly flit across her features. The hand that still held hers tightened in response to ensure she would not run away. He could not refuse her. He would not refuse her.

It had taken him ten years to grow accustomed to the idea, but it was far from unpleasant. Certainly, he had to deal with the naysayers that accused him of inproprietious acts, but Larsa had taken comfort in Gabranth and Penelo's relationship.

The pair was envy of almost every high-society couple. They were just as much in love now as they had been when the married eighteen years ago. It was a love worthy of its own tale in storybooks.

He watched helplessly as Maedra's bottom lip began to tremble. He desperately wanted what happiness Gabranth and Penelo had, but was afraid. He did not wish to fail Maedra's expectations. If he held any further doubts, they were quickly washed away as tears started to fill her eyes. He pulled her roughly into his arms and took a deep breath.

"Of course I wish to marry you Mae," he said softly, a hand gently stroking her hair. "Nothing could make me happier."

He closed his eyes and smiled as he felt her arms snake around him. It seemed he had waited forever for this moment. He had no intention of letting her go now.

* * *

"Did you have to do that?"

The foolish grin never left his face as he replied, "You expected less of me?"

Her eyes narrowed at him, but they lacked conviction. "You're terrible you know that? Just terrible."

He chuckled and drew her into his arms. "And you are not half as intimidating as you once were."

"You didn't have to threaten him so much," she chided and pushed a hand at his chest, trying hard not to smile up at him.

"I did not threaten. I merely implied that our only daughter's safety is paramount."

"Uh-huh, yeah…telling him that if Mae isn't happy you're lessening his guard detail?"

Gabranth pulled his wife closer to him and grinned impishly. "Now we need not worry about our daughter's happiness," he said with a shrug.

"You're lucky I love you, you know," Penelo replied as she shook her head.

"Aye, I am well aware," he said fondly and kissed her for good measure.

* * *

The End…no, really…this time it actually is. **The End.**


End file.
